Sydney bit back a smile.
“My bad,” Rocco said. “I see a pretty lady, I’m magnetically drawn to her. You dig?”
Tank sat next to Sydney as Sin slid in next to her on the other side, leaving Rocco on the opposite side of the horseshoe.
“This convo never happened,” Sin said. “I get even a whisper you’re talking—” Sin made the slit-your-throat gesture.
“Yo, baby,” Rocco said, “we’re good, compadre.”
The server appeared. “Mr. Santini, how are you doing, sir?”
Tank acknowledged him with a nod before addressing Sydney. “Sierra, what are you drinking?
“Santini chianti,” she said, lowering her voice.
“A shot of top-shelf bourbon,” Tank said.
“Bourbon for me,” Sin added.
“I’ll take a beer, whatever you got on tap,” Rocco added before he glanced at Tank. “Are we eatin’ or what?”
“Do you need a menu, sir?” asked the waiter.
“Only if we’re eatin’,” Rocco replied as he sniffed.
When the other three declined a menu, the server left.
Rocco glanced around. “Time for some blow. Where’s the john?”
“You do drugs in my bathroom, I’ma take you out back,” Tank said on a growl.
“Rocco,” Sin bit out, the annoyance in his voice catching Sydney’s attention. “Do you know who you’re selling your rifles to?”
“Hellooooo, I don’t think the people doin’ biz’ness with me are givin’ me their for-real names. If that’s the case, there are shitloads of Mr. Smiths in town.” Rocco chuckled, then snorted several times.
“Do you meet any of your customers?” Tank pressed him.
“I sell outta my truck, so yeah, I do,” Rocco replied.
Tank showed Rocco a photo of one of Muhammad’s lieutenants. “Ever do business with him?”
Rocco studied the picture. “Nah, he don’t look like someone I seen before.”
Tank was showing him another when the server returned with their drinks, so he set his phone face down. After the server left, Tank showed him the pic.
“I know him,” Rocco said. “He’s bigger ‘round the middle, but yeah, he bought a buncha rifles off me.”
“How many?” Tank asked.
“Half dozen,” Rocco replied. “Coulda been eight.”
“When?” Sin asked.
“Four, five weeks ago.” Rocco guzzled the beer. “Whew, that hit the spot, you know what I mean, girlie?” He smiled at Sydney, and she eyed the gold grillz covering his teeth. “Couldabeen two months back. Hell, I don’t keep a book, if ya know what I mean. Where you been hiding baby doll?”
“Around,” Sydney replied.
Rocco slid his beady eyes toward Tank. “You two a thing, huh?”
